


born with the caul.

by valvet



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Men Yearning, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: "It was certain after that day, he would kiss The Stormcatcher, and that would be the best adventure of all." or, The Windsinger attempts to court the one dragon he has never courted and hasn't gotten rejected by yet.
Relationships: The Stormcatcher/The Windsinger
Kudos: 1





	1. beginning.

For all the time The Windslinger -- Ghurab, he preferred really, spent traveling -- learning and attempting to reinvent himself, two things were facts when it came to The Stormcatcher.

One, deep beneath it all, all the screaming and surging from his ears, he was in fact, a good man, better than most actually.  
Two, he needed love, ever so desperately.

Of course, it was never in Ghurab’s own nature to purposefully analyze people, it just happened most times, when you spend most days alone with your own thoughts in the sky, you learn to take a keen eye to anybody you meet. Especially if they are of great importance. Now, this wasn’t to say he went out of his way to go near the Expanse, it was far too dry for his own liking, even if he liked the thrill of adventure, spending weeks flying over dust and furious clans who seemed to hate the idea of a bit of shade, it was never his first choice. But something...drew him in, perhaps it was the first time he had met the man in his Spiral.

“I don’t take kindly to wishy-washy people, Windslinger,” His voice always seemed so loud, constantly on the verge of a scream.

“I don’t plan on it, my friend, I keep my oaths -- what you hear of me that is painted in a negative light is based in fiction, I may travel, but I do it out of spirit, not to flee from responsibility,”  
  
The Stormcatcher tilted his head, furrowing his brow slightly.

“Then why leave?”

“I’m in my people’s hearts, I return once in a while of course, I wouldn’t abandon them, but they know deep down that even if I’m gone, I’ve never left -- does the wind ever leave, Thrage?” Up until that point, he hadn’t seen any different emotion come over the Ridgeback’s face, at that, he got a crooked smile.

“Ah don’t be an ass, but no, it doesn’t I suppose -- fine, perhaps I do take kindly to you,”  
  
Kindly was never something he had seen in Thrage, The Stormcatcher as he liked to be called, even with the small amount of time he had spent with him, he knew well enough that he hid his emotions behind a closed door and a facade, like most businessmen he supposed.

But still, a house of cards can be read -- and Ghurab liked to read, he had read many a man. The Icewarden especially, he may have been far, but at least he was worthwhile -- all of them were, and the only one he hadn’t tried to court, had never failed at was Thrage.

He knew that any dragon had a weakness, exploiting it is a horrible option, but helping them understand it? That was a good route, even a dragon who spent his days settled away in a tower had a heart, something that made them love.

Of course getting them to admit to it was a different story, but still, he had made ritual to each one of his fellow rulers, even The Arcanist, who knew only of ritual in concept and not in theory had kissed him once.   
  
It was certain after that day, he would kiss The Stormcatcher, and that would be the best adventure of all.


	2. middle.

Nothing, in The Stormcatcher’s head was better than a good day's work and a meeting afterwards, most men would scoff at the idea of even having such a schedule, but unlike most lazy people, he liked work, mostly because he got to yell at other people, but that's besides the point.

“I find it discouraging,” Recently, he, as a good boss had decided at last for the installment of proper unions, beforehand he found the idea of having safe work environments silly, since if they got things done, it worked. But, from what had been stated so far, it seemed quicker routes could be made that didn’t involve younglings getting amputated. “In order to keep peace, sir, we have to keep the workers in line, don’t we?”

Of course not everybody was exactly smart, having a typist is good, The Stormcatcher may be in fact, the best, but his ability to write properly had become worse and worse due to arthritis, and having to be in a humanoid form was disgusting to him (especially the idea of having to wear shoes). But having an overconfident, newly hired typist was another thing.

“If I can get more work done, then let it be, union leader, is there anything else you want me to know before I decide?”

The meeker Ridgeback, whom he didn’t even learn the name of (names meant caring more than he had to after all), sighed.

“Well, there is one thing, as leader I feel like it its my civic duty to speak for all of the Expanse, especially here in these conditions, I propose changing the current salary to a eight hundred treasure higher,”

The Stormcatcher laughed -- what? Did they think he cared about money? Such a ridiculous concept.

“Aye, raise it, will that inspire them to work?”

“Yes, sir”

He grinned.

“Raise it -- tell them if they want another one I want triple hours done,”

Smiling was never something he liked seeing others do, it never fit their faces, but the union leader promptly left afterwards with the transcripts given, but the glance he had...it brought a slight warmth to his chest.

“Get me my chest medications, I think I’m ill,” He pointed over at the typist, his ears drooped down.

“Of course, sir -- but...why?”  
“Why, what?”

“All of this union talk, pardon me but aren’t you...against them?”

Oh, that was funny. Real funny. He slammed his arm on the table, what a jokester.

“WHY EXACTLY WOULD I BE AGAINST UNIONS, BOY, DO YOU THINK I’M A DAMN FOOL? I DO WHAT GETS THE MOST WORK DONE, IF THEY ARE INSPIRED TO WORK MORE THAN I DO IT, YOU SLIMY WORM. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT I’D RATHER DIE THAN SEE YOU, COME BACK TOMORROW,”  
His scream was still the same as ever of course, and the worm squirmed away, teary eyed at the mere concept of being disciplined. Spirals, always so bratty.

As the sound of sobs echoed the hallway, a familiar figure stood at the door.

“Good evening, Thrage, it seems you still have the same voice,”

Oh, The Windslinger, adventurer, long-shaped worm and hippie. Usually all those concepts made him want to throw up, but...he liked him, slightly, unlike the people he had, he kept promises and wasn’t overly stupid.

He’d let him stay.

“What brings you here unannounced, I thought when we enter now we have to have fanfare” Ghurab laughed, closing the gap in between them as he sat down.

“Only if you wish to, I simply wanted to see you again, it seems I’ve been neglecting your territories and I wish to redeem that,” His cat-like mouth pursed.

“I see,” He adjusted himself in his seat. “How have you been?”

Ghurab smiled -- and he liked it.

Good god what was wrong with him? His chest felt fuzzy even more, and quickly he attempted to take his chest medication, either he was ill or under a curse, and neither were good.

“Good, I’m still continuing my search as usual, it seems things have changed around here, I never thought I’d see that much technology out on the frontier,”

“Oh yes, decided to ship some out to the business types, they have been doing good work of distributing it, soon I hope all the territory I own will be fully advanced, I always feel horrible for those who cannot understand the full scale of what they have,”

“You know, it’s strange really, all the tales I’ve heard about you are ones that paint you as a bad man, you have never been one, have you?”

Even with the medication in his system, he felt a tinge of heat go over his face -- of course he wasn’t a bad person! He was wonderful, great even -- 

But why did his body like that one he had?

“Those who think I am morally corrupt no nothing of me, they see me as a watercolor with obvious blemishes and horrible colors, in reality I am oil, the only people who are morally corrupt are the ones who destroy my image,” With a flick of his wrist, he lit his pipe.

Ghurab’s face was so holdable --

“Have you considered poetry?” Thrage snorted

“I’m not pretentious, never in my life would I try and take Arcanist’s role of artisan,” 

“Oh stop,” His laugh was so pleasant to hear, he’d heard spirals laugh before, they were a dime a dozen, but the difference between this moment and everything else, was that he liked it.

“Do you?” 

“Oh no, I prefer to read others when it comes to that form, I do like journaling, it keeps one mind occupied, when spending long travels between the territories at least,”

Thrage couldn’t imagine even traveling, when he did it was rare, but by every bone in his body it was long, not because he couldn’t fly fast, but because the only time he would leave was to argue and not end up getting what he wanted anyways.

God he hated The Arcanist.

And he loved The Windslinger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get this man some dick my good bitch

**Author's Note:**

> next two chapters will be tomorrow and the day after that, yes the windsinger is fruity, yes he is a hippie, its called interpretation of the text <3


End file.
